There's Something....
There’s something deeply honest about “Dad & I.” From the first note, you feel that this isn’t just a song — it’s a reckoning. A conversation between who we were, who raised us, and who we’ve become. Infinite Coles doesn’t perform this piece; he lives it in front of us.
The Song — Gentle, Raw, and Unafraid
What stands out first is the vulnerability. Coles doesn’t hide behind production or bravado — his voice trembles, pauses, and breaks in all the right places. You can hear the weight of everything unsaid between a father and son. It’s not angry. It’s not begging. It’s just real.
The instrumentation moves quietly around him, almost hesitant — like a memory you’re scared to touch. It leaves space for the words to land. The beauty here isn’t in perfection, but in truth. Every line feels like something that’s been rehearsed in your head a thousand times, but never spoken aloud.
The Video — Memory as Mirror
Visually, “Dad & I” feels like looking through an old photo album that suddenly starts moving. It doesn’t tell a straight story — instead, it drifts between past and present, between love and distance. The lighting shifts from warm to shadowed, mirroring that emotional back-and-forth between closeness and loss.
There’s no performance in the usual sense — no attempt to “act.” It’s more like we’re watching memory unfold in real time. Hands, faces, quiet spaces — each frame holds a kind of truth that words can’t reach.
The Heart of It
What makes “Dad & I” powerful isn’t what it resolves — it’s what it leaves open. There’s no clean ending, no big moment of forgiveness or closure. It’s just the fragile space where two people try to understand each other after years of silence.
That honesty is what makes the song universal. Whether you had a complicated relationship with your own father or not, you feel this. You feel that mix of love, hurt, and hope tangled together.
Final Reflection
“Dad & I” is quiet, but it hits deep. It reminds us that healing doesn’t always look like reconciliation — sometimes it just looks like being brave enough to speak.
Infinite Coles gives us a gift here: a piece of art that doesn’t try to fix anything, but lets us sit with the ache, the beauty, and the truth of it all.
It’s not just a tribute — it’s a mirror. And if you’ve ever carried something unspoken between you and your father, “Dad & I” will find you.